At last we were notified of the return of the Saltire, and we prepared for the arrival of guests. This time the great airship docked under gloomy skies, and the crew hurried to the House, which had been lit for the occasion so it must have looked very inviting. The airship greeted us with music from all the various places it had visited during its tour of the British Isles.

Suddenly there was a comotion on the steps from the gondola, and at least three sturdy men were knocked from their feet and tumbled from the doorway, and the door slid shut. A few moments later and the hawsers and docking mechanism were dropped - a safety feature, I presumed to facilitate a rapid departure in times of danger. The noise of the engines increased and the music changed to the Ride of the Valkirie, which pounded out, acompanied by the words of Elmer Fudd - Kill the wabbet! Kill the wabbet! as the airship reversed away from the mooring tower and began to gain height

I had put on my long Goretex double cape to go down to welcome everyone back, and hand out hooded cloaks to those not dressed for the weather. The three men who had taken a tumble all wore the red shirts of security.
'It's the Captain, he's flipped again.'
'Ever since he saw that acryli-beast sporran.
'But he was getting a bit better until he saw the rabbit.'
'He pushed you?'
'He kicked me!' one declared, rubbing the offended cheek.
'But what can he do with the airship? It isn't as though it is armed.'
They shuffled and nudged eachother.
'It isn't armed - surely?'
'Twenty Vickers machine guns'
'Twin bomb racks.'

'ZARKING FARDWARKS!!'

'Sorry.'

The Saltire had moved to the end of the Azelia Border and something fell from the rear of the gondola, struck the rather pleasant gazebo and burst into flames.
'A bomb?' I gasped.
'Super heated gin, I suspect.'